Take Me Away
by TightropeDancing
Summary: A schoolgirl prays that an urban legend, Boogiepop, the Angel of Death, will come and take her away from her dull and uninteresting life.


**Take Me Away**

**A Boogiepop One-shot**

Well, this is in the perspective of a random, normal schoolgirl from Shinyo or Hijiridani or anywhere else the Boogiepop rumors are spread who isn't so thrilled with life, and quite honestly, deems it a ride not worth finishing. Basically, there's nothing exciting about her life in the least bit, and due to her nature or something, that's making her hate it. And of course, because of this, she hopes the Angel of Death will come for her.

Basically, this came from the thought 'What would a totally unrelated person think about Boogiepop after just hearing the rumors?' So, yeah. This is more of Boogiepop the urban legend than Boogiepop Touka's-other-personality. So, Ima gonna get on with it.

……………..

Take me away, Boogiepop. Take me away from this urban jungle, this hell illuminated by the garish neon signs of shops and the looming street lamps. Take me away from all of it, from school, from who's-dating-who, from my clean, pressed uniform, from these school slippers, from the ever impending exams.

I honestly don't like this world, Boogiepop. I don't like the people in it, my parents, my teachers, my classmates... I can only barely tolerate the people I call 'friends'. They're all the same, really, from one to the next. My parents only care about my grades. My teachers want to get through the day and get paid, and all that my fellow students ever do is stress about exams, worried about their futures.

My own future is all to clear. I'll graduate school, yes, and then go to some no-name school, following which I will spend my days in an endless delirium, working a nine-to-five job. Like a scratched track on a CD would repeat itself, my life will repeat the same path as thousands, maybe millions before me, a cycle of five-day weeks and the Monday blues.

Maybe I'll get married. But my husband won't be anything special in appearance or personality. 'True love' and 'that special someone' only exist in the movies, and never show their faces in the real world.

Boogiepop, please spare me this grayscale future. Spare me the humdrum sameness of every day. I'm not excited about living. I know what's going to happen later on, so why bother going through the motions?

Even if I try, it's not like I'm going to receive an outstanding score on my exams, it's not like I'll distinguish myself from the masses academically, and move onto better things.

I'm not smart, I'm not pretty, and it's not like I play a musical instrument well, or am athletic enough to be a sports star, or even to receive a scholarship.

I'm just the same as everyone else, average, dull and boring. Then, Boogiepop, is it so average to want off of this slow-moving yet nauseating roller-coaster called life? I plea to you, floating whisper, to take me away from here, even if it's not my time yet. But, Boogiepop, would you listen to me? I'm not special. Most people aren't.

That 'you're special' and 'follow your dreams' crap they pawn off on kiddy shows and in book deserves an empty laugh for the lame joke it is. Following your dreams… honestly, who can do that? It really is a nice, romantic saying, henceforth not suitable and inapplicable to this harsh, prosaic world we live in. How can one follow their dreams while plugging away in overtime hours in order to support themselves or a family as the cost of living climbs steadily higher? To put it simply, it isn't possible to follow your dreams, your aspirations tethered to a desk, be it at work or at school. All we can do is watch them float away, and put pencil to paper, hoping that some day, the bonds will break and we are free to chase these dreams of ours.

It's not like we ever can, though. That's a privilege reserved for the smart, the talented and the lucky who make their fortunes, not the rest of us, the nine-to-fivers who await each pay-check.

I don't want to live in a world like this one, Boogiepop… I… I can't stand it! I haven't even dared think of my dreams, I don't have any! I have no idea what I want to do while I'm here, none at all. Why? Because… because I'm afraid! No, not afraid, I simply know better. I've known better for a long time, even before middle school, that dreams are impractical, silly things. I know they'll be crushed under stacks of paper and drowned in the empty hours I'll spend just trying to get some money. I don't want to be here anymore, in this world that prohibits dreams!

I've thought of killing myself, to escape from this place. Jumping, maybe. Or I could drown myself, or take a box-cutter to my wrists, ingest some sort of acidic cleaning fluid, Drāno, maybe, jump out in front of a truck, or hang myself… the list goes on and on. But, Boogiepop, I'm a coward. Why use any of these ugly, messy methods when you could simply take me away without a moment of pain?

I'm a coward, I hate pain, I hate it! I know for sure. So please, Boogiepop, Angel of Death, kill me swiftly, quietly and painlessly.

You may be an urban rumor, Boogiepop, but I rest my hopes in you, my hopes of escaping this hellish world of boredom, this frozen numbness which haunts the scape of this claustrophobic city, the city I was born in, the city I live in, and the city I will most definitely die in. I do not want my future, the flawless, dull photocopy of things that have happened to others before, and will most definitely happen again, reminded by bitter reality that our dreams and hopes will never come true. Why…? Why live like that?!

Boogiepop, take me away. I'm waiting.

…………………

Okay, this chick seriously needs to get off the emo pills. But really, as it was said in the second episode of BP:P, very few people can do what they want with their lives.

This is countered by "That doesn't mean people shouldn't think about it." And that is this random schoolgirl's problem. She aspires to nothing. Well, whatever. Hope you liked it.


End file.
